Needs
by Worvete
Summary: Voldemort needs Hermione and she needs him. She just doesn't know it yet. Time travel. Rated M


"Is she a virgin?"

Lord Voldemort's voice echoed through the walls of the Malfoy's mansion. It wasn't the question that caused everyone to suddenly freeze. He knew that. Severus stared blankly at him as if the idea itself was completely surreal.

A rumor had reached his ears not long ago and, if proven to be true, it would be the ultimate way to ensure that his life would not be at the mercy of mere objects. Why? Because he knew Harry Potter already knew too much about the horcruxes and he was getting closer and closer to finding all of them and he knew he had to hasten his plan as quickly as possible.

The spell itself was rather simple and quite laughable, but in order to make it work he needed a girl.

But not just any girl.

Hermione Granger. Harry Potter's most devoted friend and brightest witch of her age, as he had gathered.

Voldemort didn't even blink. He was still waiting for someone to answer him.

"My lord…" Dolohov started slowly and took a few steps, contouring the long and dark table in the middle of the room. "Could you explain to us exactly what you intend to do with _that_ girl?"

The Dark Lord could tell Dolohov was running impatient with so much secrecy and he was not known for being a bright person when it came to understand camouflaged plans.

He remained still in his chair and shifted his gaze to Bellatrix instead. "You were the one that came to me about that spell. Now explain to the others what it consists of."

Not waiting to be told twice, the foul witch let a devious smile paint her face. "It is quite simple: we need one girl and a time-turner. We already have the time-turner. It's a new and more secure way to make sure the Dark Lord achieves immortality and this time not even Potter can intervene."

A long pause stretched out.

Bellatrix turned her attention back to Voldemort. "My lord, I do believe Greyback is already searching for the _mudblood_."

He wordlessly nodded. She continued her speech. "The only thing the girl has to do is let the Dark Lord become intimate with her and the rest I still haven't come to discover, but I'm working on it, of course."

Voices started to be heard across the room and they were filled with doubt and suspicion.

"And why is the time-turner needed?" Severus inquired flatly. As always, he was the one bringing up the smart questions.

"The time-turner is needed because the girl has to be sent back in time, Severus," Bellatrix spat, assuming a defensive position.

"Clearly," he pointed out, cocking an eyebrow at her. "What other use could it have?"

"You–"

"Enough!" Voldemort said rather calmly. Not much was needed to get everyone to immediately obey him. "This debate is pointless. To answer your question, Severus, I have not much to say. She needs to be sent back in time, to the year 1943, to be more accurate."

The murmurs replaced the silence again. Dolohov tilted his head lightly. "And why is that, my lord?"

"She needs to become infatuated with me," he explained, not wanting to reveal too much just yet. "And according to Bellatrix, her relationship with me needs to be more… _intimate_."

The thought alone was like a whiplash across his mind. Not that he had never been intimate with a woman before. But a mudblood? Not ever. Unfortunately, he needed someone powerful and intelligent and now wasn't the time to be picky about this. She would have to do.

"And why does this require her to be sent so far behind? Couldn't you just do it now? In the present, I mean?" Dolohov persisted and Voldemort was quite amused at how much thought his follower was putting into this.

Voldemort ran a hand over the dark wood table as if petting it. "There's the catch, Dolohov. She needs to yield herself to me willingly. I doubt forcing her to do this will have the desired effect. Not to mention that back then I was more… _appealing_. It'll make things easier."

Cunning laughs emerged from his followers and he knew that they were now growing fond of the idea. After all, it involved persuasion and a bit of malice to do it.

Voldemort took his time to study Severus' reaction to all of this. There was something about his expression that made him doubt he fully agreed with it. "Severus, you'll be in charge of this whole process as soon as the girl arrives."

He noted a hint of surprise invade Potion's teacher. "You already have the girl?"

Lord Voldmort couldn't help but to grin mildly at his quick remark. "Indeed. Greyback is on his way here as we speak and with good news."

"But Potter…"

Anger was now building inside of him like a fierce snake waiting to attack. "Potter what? Do you thing he's clever enough to know where she was taken? I don't care if he's seen as a prodigy. He certainly is not and I'm not afraid of what he might do!" His voice was trembling with rage and it took much of his willpower not to lose his temper. "By the time he even realizes what happened, it'll be too late."

Snape remained calm and said nothing. Voldemort's anger was now spent and he leaned back on his chair, gazing at Severus menacingly.

"Why does she need to be a virgin, my lord?" Lucius now asked somewhat nervously.

"It's part of the process," he said simply. "It'll be more likely to succeed if she is intact, right, Bellatrix?"

The witch was caught off guard as she was leaning bluntly against the wall. "Uh… yes, my lord! That was what I gathered. As I said, the main goal is to get intimate with her. I'm not sure about the rest…"

"Well, then make sure," Voldemort merely threatened in a low whisper. "I'm not willing to take such a risk as to let a Potter friend back to 1943 only to realize she is of no good to me! Meddling with the past is dangerous, Bella. It is dangerous enough to know that the consequences will be immeasurable."

Panic was now splattered across the woman's face. "My lord, I would never… I…"

"I know, Bellatrix," Voldemort assured. "You would never dare to mess this up. You'd have to pay with your life."

Before they could carry on their conversation, a loud thundering noise was heard all over the room.

"LET GO OF ME, YOU MONSTER!"

She was finally there.

Everyone in the room made way for Greyback and the girl to enter. Looks of disgust and anger were spread across his followers' faces and he couldn't help but to smile at it.

Fenrir halted a few meters in front of Voldemort as he held the girl in his strong muscled arms. She had strength in her that much was sure. Her petite face was flushed and tears rolled from her swollen eyes. His first impression of her was quite positive: although not gorgeous, she was not hideous either, which was more than he was expecting; as for her body, she was in some need of curves, but he found that to be irrelevant for the matter. Curly brown hair fell on her face as she struggled against her captor. Also, the fact that most of her clothes were stained and torn, he guessed catching her had been quite arduous even for someone as agile as Greyback.

Voldemort regarded the beast before her with a near bored expression as Fenrir's yellowish nails sank deeper in the girl's arms. "I had to contain myself not to bite her. This one is a hard bone to chew."

And good for him that he had been able to maintain his basic instinct at bay or he'd be welcomed with death. No, Voldemort did not like werewolves in general and Greyback was the worst kind possible to exist. However, he needed his services and the beast needed his. So, for the time being, their interests were temporarily aligned.

Voldemort took more time to study Hermione as she had now only realized that struggling wouldn't do her any good.

Anger. Yes, anger flickered in her young eyes and he knew she'd kill everyone in the room if given the chance. He also knew she was far too smart to defy anyone in such a state of submission, hence her more cautious attitude.

"Where is her wand?"

The werewolf's features hardened and he merely shrugged. "Dunno. I think it fell behind."

"You broke it, you monster!"

"Fenrir!" Voldemort raised his voice just as Fenrir was about to hit her. "One more scratch on that girl and our little arrangement will have to be changed."

Of course Greyback wouldn't want that to happen. His weekly supply of preys would quickly come to an end if he dared defying Lord Voldemort. The exchange of insults between him and the girl ended as abruptly as it had started.

More paces in the room and Voldemort began losing his patience as to who could it be now. The elegance of said pacing, however, gave him the insight of the woman responsible for it. "Ah, Narcissa… good of you to join us."

The discrete blonde woman jolted in surprise when he regarded her presence. "My lord, everything is as you'd commanded."

"Good," he merely said, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin in the back of his hands. "Now I need you to get me a wand. Hmm… dragon heartstring will do."

She bowed her head lightly with elegance and left the room as quickly as her shoes allowed. He then looked at the girl who was returning the gaze. "Miss Granger, right? Finally we meet. I've heard so much about you. Not all good, of course, but enough, I dare say. Impressive how some of your skills surpass the one's belonging to you dear friend Harry Potter."

The girl straightened her body. "Whatever that means."

"It means what it means," Voldemort said. "He's the _boy who lived_, but you will be the one doing something truly extraordinary."

"Let me go, you snake," she chose to answer. Her tone was now more aggressive, but still measured. "Harry will keep on doing what he is. Don't think abducting me will allure him here."

"I agree," he said, making sure his eyes were fixed on hers. "But not even perfect Potter is able to trace you back here. So, Miss Granger, I believe you already know that you're not leaving."

She now stood awkwardly and her face went very pale. Fenrir's grip on her eased and she just stood there.

Voldemort had expected more struggles or some yells, but the girl said nothing more. Well, he had to keep pushing her, though. "I won't kill you, rest assure. However, I do hope you behave."

That was all it took. "Behave? For _you_? What is it that you want, then? I'm not saying anything about Harry!"

A throaty laugh escaped Voldemort's inside. "We both know that if I wanted that, you'd tell me in no time. And I wouldn't even need to torture you, right, Severus?"

Her eyes averted back to her former professor and he was able to recognize hatred when he saw it. The tall dark haired man remained impassive. "Yes, my lord. Miss Granger knows that refusing to tell you information will do her no good."

Amongst the many persuasion methods the Dark Lord possessed, Veritaserum was by far the most amiable one and rarely used, by obvious reasons. The only one that defended that it should be used more often was Severus Snape. He was indeed a glorious potions' maker and he knew his serum would always be perfect whenever Voldemort intended to use it.

But the Dark Lord was not worried at all about that potion. It was simply not needed in this situation. "Bellatrix, come here."

The woman raced in no time to meet Voldemort. "You do realize that a memory spell is required, right, Bellatrix? Sending her this way will not be helpful."

Seeing that she was not getting his point he lowered his voice. "Do it. Erase this meeting and her abduction from her mind."

Bellatrix shot the girl a venomous look; one that said girl returned with a fierce glare. "It won't be a problem, my lord. Although I have to ask… will your younger self know of this?"

Voldemort took a slow, deep breath. "Of course not, Bellatrix. He's been informed to keep an eye out for a new student, but other than that, no more information. As I've said, meddling with time is a dangerous thing to do, even to me."

"It'll be my pleasure, my lord."

Bellatrix never missed an opportunity to torture someone or to run some _errands_ to entertain her master. After all, such devotion had always been much appreciated by Voldemort. When all others had failed him, Bellatrix had not.

The woman approached Hermione and pointed her wand at her merciless. The girl fidgeted against Fenrir's grip. "You can't even do your work by yourself, can you, _Voldemort_? You send your minions to do it!"

Voices of protest were heard once again. Bellatrix Lestrange spat at Hermione's feet. "You filthy mudblood… if you only understood what's about to happen to you…"

Narcissa came in once again, her pace hastened and carrying some belongings. Everyone cut the chatter and observed as the Malfoy woman approached the mudblood with some reluctance and forced her to hold a suitcase. As soon as she had managed to fix those things to the girl's hands, she positioned herself by Bellatrix's side.

"May I, my lord?" She asked holding the time-turner as well.

Voldmeort inhaled deeply and mesmerized the girl whose tears streamed down her face again. "Professor…"

Severus knew she meant him, but said nothing. She didn't stop however. "Professor…please! I know you don't agree with this! Don't let them do this! Think of Dumbledore!"

"Enough!" Bellatrix ranted. "Leave him out of this! You'll do as you're commanded!"

After this, she placed the time-turner on the girl's hand and everyone watched as Potter's friend disappeared.

* * *

The only sound Hermione could hear was the pounding of her won heartbeat. The exposed parts of her body came in contact with the cold marble as she lost her balance. Soon after, she felt her head throb making it impossible for her too open her eyes and take a glimpse at where she was. She couldn't even find the right strength to regain her posture. Last thing she remembered was being with Harry in Godric' Hollow and after that – no matter how much she tried – she could not remember more.

Only a few minutes later did she realize she was holding something in both of her hands.

One was a time-turner. That much was clear.

The other felt rougher against the palm of her right hand and she guessed it could be some sort of suitcase.

As she began more and more conscious of her surroundings, she then tried to open her eyes and stand.

Easier said than done, for she almost fell again had not been a person. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Hermione tensed quickly and assumed a defensive position although she was pretty much blind. "Where am I?"

There was a silence before the feminine voice answered. "Err… at Hogwarts?"

"Nancy! There's Professor Dumbledore!" other girl shouted which made Hermione cringe and walk some steps behind until she became in contact with a wall again.

"Professor!"

"Miss Sayler?" A deep and calm voice spoke. Dumbledore… "What happened?"

Hermione kept trying to regain her faculties as soon as she could, but all she had come to gather was that it was rather dark and there was no apparent reason for her to be at Hogwarts.

And Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was supposed to be dead. Nothing made sense.

"Miss?" His voice drew near. "Are you alright?"

"I… don't know."

"Miss Sayler and Miss Josepha, could you please leave us both alone? This dear miss needs some guidance."

Hermione supposed both nodded since she hadn't heard anything else but the professor's voice. "Miss, come. You need to seat."

She allowed him to guide her uncoordinated legs to a bench nearby. Slowly, her blurry vision allowed a clearer one to take place. Hermione reckoned Dumbledore was waiting for her to say something first. "My name is Hermione Granger and I have no idea why I'm at Hogwarts, professor…"

Hermione allowed herself to gaze upon Dumbledore for the first time in ages. He was far younger than before, but with the same kind eyes and light grin. She was not sure how young he was, but his long auburn beard already showed hints of grey hairs. Of course he had far less wrinkles than what she was used to. Half-moon spectacles rested on the bridge of his crooked nose as his piercing eyes peeped from them. Although welcoming, she couldn't not help but to feel he was highly suspicious.

"I've already noticed you're carrying your belongings," he pointed at the suitcase now resting on the floor next to Hermione. "But I can't seem to understand why you should be carrying a rare artifact such as a time-turner."

That man never missed anything. She opened the hand holding it and examined the tiny gold object. Hermione was sure it wasn't the one Professor McGonagall had given her on her third year. "Sir, I don't know how it's in my possession. I found myself here and-"

He raised a hand very subtly. "Miss Granger, whoever sent you here did not want you to return, that's if I'm correct in assuming someone did send you here. You see, your time-turner is broken. I doubt you'd do it yourself on purpose.

Hermione concentrated on the time-turner before her eyes far too obsessively and almost forgetting she was having a conversation. No matter how much she tried to squeeze her mind, she could not remember any of this. A thought vaguely crossed her mind, but she didn't dare saying it loud.

"Miss Granger?"

"Oh," she said at last. Dumbledore was eying her with much interest. "Can you fix it, Professor?"

"Well, I could give it a try, but…" he hesitated as he looked at the object in her hands. "Time-turners are very sensitive magical objects. When not handled properly, the damage could be permanent. I'm afraid this head does not possess such knowledge."

Crap.

"What year is it?"

"September the 1st, 1943," he informed rather quickly. "You have no signs of trauma and your response is quite fine. However, I think someone jinxed you somehow. A memory spell? Quite possible, yes."

"Oh no…" Hermione began panicking as the evidences began building up. This was no dream for sure… this lucid? Not possible. The only person evil enough to do such a thing was _him_, but how? And most important, why?

Some late students walked past them only acknowledging Professor Dumbledore, obviously. It was Hogwarts, alright. The same glow and glory as ever. Always someone late and always someone to make sure the lost ones found their way.

"What do last remember?"

"I was with a friend… Harry…" she shut up immediately thinking that it would be better not to reveal any real names, let alone Harry's. After all, this could very well be a plan by _him_ to try to extort information from her. Her name, however, was pretty much insignificant. "Err… Otter. We were having diner in a restaurant somewhere in London. After that, everything is pretty much blurry."

He nodded softly at her. "I can't seem to acknowledge any of your names. Is that friend of you're a wizard as well?"

Hermione paused before nodding. "Yes. But he doesn't go to Hogwarts. He's kind of a rebel. We're both muggle borns, so don't expect to find our lineage walking around this corridor, professor."

One more lie. If she kept going on like this, she'd break Ron's personal lying record (and it was quite the record).

"Have you finished school yet?"

"No…"

"What year are you from?"

"1997, professor."

That information impressed him for his eyes widened a bit. "A huge gap, I see. In which year were you at Hogwarts, Miss Granger?"

"6th, professor," she murmured. The thought of how her school was back in 1997 pained her deeply.

"Well, Miss Granger, this is what we'll do: you'll be sorted again by the sorting hat and you'll proceed your 7th year with normality. In the meantime, I will try to find you a solution," the young Dumbledore explained with kindness.

Hermione couldn't help but to return a smile for old time's sake and then realized they were no longer alone. A tall figure was standing next to a stone pillar.

"Who is it?" Dumbledore asked. The boy came out of the shadows that covered his face. "Ah! Tom, back from the train, I believe."

The boy had pale skin and jet black hair. His eyes were dancing between her and Dumbledore and he had his eyes carefully placed behind him in order to look more professional. She guessed that the word attractive didn't do him justice and as soon as she saw the prefect badge hanging from his robes she knew he was a role mode student and that pleased her. His looks were impeccable and she couldn't help but to damn those new prefects who were always so sloppy on their robes and looks.

"Yes, professor," the boy answered with a very natural tone. Even his voice had a prefect ring to it. "Late students, as always."

The old man laughed softly at the young boy and rose to his feet. "Indeed, Tom. Well, I must be on my way, though. I would ask you to show Miss Granger to a bathroom," he was now more serious. "She's new here, you see. A little accident and she ended up like she was in a fight. Tom, after it, take her to the ceremony for her to be sorted."

His neutral face faded and a side-grin crossed his lips as he looked at her charmingly and she wondered whether it was genuine or fake. "Absolutely, Professor Dumbledore."

"I'll be seeing you, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a warm smile.

As they watched him disappear at the end of the corridor, the boy turned himself to face her fully with his features still pleasing. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger. My name is Tom Riddle and I'm a prefect to this school. Now, if you're ready, I'll show you to the nearest girls' bathroom."

Hermione's heart plummeted back to ground again as he approached her. Unconsciously, she jolted and retrieved an arched eyebrow and a suspicious look from him. "Allow me to carry your luggage, Miss Granger."

"Oh, okay. Right."

"Are you feeling well?" He inquired as he picked up her suitcase.

"Totally."

Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribcage that she was afraid she might notice it through her mutilated clothes. Hermione Granger was pretty sure Tom Riddle also known back in her days as Lord Voldemort had noticed her looking down at her chest for no apparent reason.


End file.
